Letter to gene

Ah Gene, my first performance was a tribute to you,
I had my dibs on Ace but i was six feet two
At the age of 10 so it was blood capsules then,
and a bass of the finest scrap materials when,

God of Thunder played on the C30 tape,
my cotton mouth had developed to a stage
Where the absence of spit, meant that my bit,
of blood curdling theatre was reduced to a paltry

Spitting out of powder and pills,
the memory it haunts me still
But can you see the dedication i showed,
As I plowed thru my mothers wardrobe

A vest, some chain, and a stacked leather boot,
my reputation all but through
Slim the chance i'd make it home alive,
Before being beaten by some toughs in Grade 5

So tell me now is it just about the money?
tell me Gene is it just about the money?

Ah Gene, sometimes we're all business people it's true,
but it took me years to learn the riffs and the moves
My biggest acheivement over spelling and sums,
was learning side 3 to Double Platinum but oh,

I can't expect you to understand how i feel,
but Calling Dr. Love brought some changes in me
The sweet young kid who lived between footballl games,
became a child of the damned and threw my soul away

Oh, my spot in the Army was refuted goddamn,
my Dad sat me down and told me about the Man
Behind the desk with a cuban cigar,
while the bands, all shivered in their cars,

So tell me now is it just about the money?
tell me is it just about the money?

I guess it's cold gin time again,
you know it's the only thing to keep us together